


So wrong it's right

by LeighJ



Series: Depraved [5]
Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blow Jobs, Come Eating, Come Swallowing, Denial, Denial of Feelings, Gay, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Oral Sex, Rough Body Play, Rough Oral Sex, Roughness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 08:43:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16426151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeighJ/pseuds/LeighJ
Summary: "S’so fuckin’ wrong boy I don’t even know where to begin kickin’ your ass back into shape.Merle, back at it again with his mouth. Being Daryl’s deepest consciousness, his closest friend, his worst enemy. Fuck off, Merle. "





	So wrong it's right

**Author's Note:**

> Something a little different for me... but something I hope you enjoy none the less!

_S’so fuckin’ wrong boy I don’t even know where to begin kickin’ your ass back into shape._

Merle, back at it again with his mouth. Being Daryl’s deepest consciousness, his closest friend, his worst enemy. Fuck off, Merle. You’re gone, man an’ you ain’t never comin’ back. Fuck off. He worries at his thumbnail as the cigarette burns in his hand, heat dangerously close to his cheek but fuck it. Fuck the burn, fuck the pain and fuck his childhood for making him question this. Fuck Merle and his dad and all the guys at school who bragged about pussy. Fuck ‘em all. They’re all dead and gone and buried and he _still_ cares what they fucking think. He releases his thumb and drags on his cigarette instead, inhaling deep and letting it out slow.

Instead he thinks about the hard stubble coating Rick’s jaw and the way it drags against his throat when Rick kisses him there. He thinks about the way he kicked off when Rick first did it. _Don’t treat me like a woman. Don’t kiss me up an’ squeeze my hips like I’m fuckin’ Lori or some chick you fucked in college. Don’t fuckin’ do that._ For weeks he fought so hard to hold onto that rage, onto that humiliation of being seduced by a _man_. He is a fucking man. He does the seducing, he does the mounting, and he takes control. Except it don’t work like that with Rick. A man like Rick Grimes does not bend under the voice of another dominant male.

He does not cower or hide or run. He stands tall and you _back the fuck down_. He fought so hard but it got so good and he couldn’t. The humiliation stopped pricking him long enough for him to be excited, to want it, to get hard. Long enough for him to take Rick’s head and guide it to his throat, to say _please_. Sometimes he thinks Rick knew Daryl was never going to survive under Rick's iron will. Daryl was never going to keep up the anger and the shame. Soon he would crumble. Soon he would bend. Ass in the air like a pansy and dick so deep inside he felt it in his gut. Rick must have known or he wouldn’t have kept coming back, wouldn’t have kept asking for more.

If Rick thought Daryl stood a rat’s ass against him he wouldn’t have kept coming every night, to this abandoned little room that smells like damp mould and taking him. Against the wall, the floor, the scabby mattress or the door. He would have given up if he thought Daryl wouldn’t cave but he didn’t and now they’re here. Now they’re here in this ritual, in this thing that he’s still fighting with all his strength, even down on his knees. Which is where he goes when Rick steps through the door. He stubs his cigarette against the wall and bows his head between his shoulders. Rick's footsteps are quick and angry, shaking the walls and Daryl’s chest.

It’s been a rough day. They’ve lost people, two cars, a van and supplies in one hit. Daryl wasn’t there but Michonne said it was bad. The van full of their recent haul lost gas in the middle of a horde and when one car stopped to help so did the other. Everyone got torn to shreds, including one of their youngest from the Woodbury folk. A girl, at least fifteen but so underfed and sad she could have passed for nine, easy. Rick looked out for her, Daryl noticed and the girl took to him. Daryl wondered if they fucked in their free time too but when he voiced that opinion to Rick he couldn’t walk the next day. Every time Daryl grunted under a thrust Rick would say, “ _Now you believe me?_ ”

Daryl believed him then and now he believes that Rick’s mad and when Rick’s mad he’s violent. Anxiety grips his throat and excitement his cock, his mind already split down the middle as he wars with his feelings. Rick takes his hair in hand and yanks, teeth bared in the moonlight and eyes ethereal.

Daryl knows what he needs to do.

With expert precision, he unbuckles Rick’s belt and drags on the fly, letting the thick cock inside free. The head of him is soaked and Daryl’s stomach flutters dangerously. Reaching down to his own belt, he works on the buckle as he takes Rick’s dick in his other hand. There’s a grunt from above him but he doesn’t look away from his prize. Swollen and dark, already so close. With his own cock free and in hand, he squeezes as he swallows Rick's down. Rick growls and yanks Daryl’s hair harder. Moaning, he beats at his own swollen dick as he sucks hard on the one in his mouth. Growling again and clearly wasting no time tonight, Rick takes his control back and uses Daryl’s mouth how he wants.

Like the woman he detests to be, he deep throats Rick and lets him fuck into the back of his mouth, taking what he wants, moaning and cursing. He’s enraged tonight. Aggressive and determined and something else Daryl doesn’t want to name because it’s too _gay._ He arches his neck back as he squeezes the head of his dick. Rick looks down on him, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he cages all the sounds inside him. Daryl fluctuates his throat, thinking of how he likes his own cock sucked and Rick breaks apart at the seams, eyes widening, sweat gleaming, skin flushed as hot reams of cum burst across Daryl’s tongue.

There’s more tonight than there ever has been and some dribbles between his lips, flowing over his chin; staining his shirt. Rick releases his head and Daryl pulls away with a rattling gasp, their eyes locked together as he beats on his dick desperately, mewling in near agony. The orgasm grips him by the spine and throws him around like a piece of paper, battering him from the inside. Rope after rope of cum splashes against the floor and then he sags, limp dick still in his hand and head bowed. Despite not looking at Rick, he can hear him zipping his jeans back up and buckling his belt and he knows what comes next.

“Same time tomorrow. Promise I’ll be gentler.”

“Fuck off,” Daryl growls as he climbs to his feet, zipping up his own jeans and looking anywhere but Rick. “Fuckin’ faggot.”

Rick laughs but its dry and ruined, too exhausted to put up the same fight he usually does to Daryl’s fucked up sexuality. “See you ‘round, Daryl.”


End file.
